Tales of the Littlest Mermaid: Tales of the Sea, #2

By Lou Wilham

Words have power—some more than others.

 

For Roan, the littlest of Tynan's daughters, the word with the most power is freedom. Trapped behind the castle walls by a war she does not understand nor care about, all she has ever dreamed of is the freedom to see the world on land.

 

For Irsa, the Witch of the Deep, the word with the most power, is a name that she has forgotten. A name that she sacrificed for the magic to defeat the man who took from her everything that she has ever loved.

 

But vengeance and freedom come at a cost, and in the end, the question is, what are you willing to pay?

 

Tales of the Littlest Mermaid is a reimagining of the classic Little Mermaid full of mermaids, and undersea magic for fans of Tithe by Holly Black, and Wicked by Gregory Maguire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing
• Release date: Aug 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201751111

Book preview

Prologue

Words have power.

Some more than others.

Then there are names, which can inspire hope or strike terror into one's heart. The name Irsa was the latter.

The Witch of the Deep's name had long been reviled and feared by the people of Alon for her widespread feud with their king. No one is quite sure how it began. What they are sure of is that the hatred between the pair now threatened to swallow Alon with its darkness.

This is the story of how Irsa of Tjena lost her name.

ONE

Irsa

Irsa was losing her , little by little. It had started with her name, had expanded to her voice, then how many freckles she'd had, and soon it would be the color of her eyes or her smile.

Everything had a price, and that was the bargain Irsa had struck with the dark writhing powers of the depths of the ocean. Her memories for the ability to bring Tynan to bent tail. Funny how she could remember his name but had lost the name of the one she was doing this for. Not that it mattered much. Irsa was sure before this was done, she'd have no memories left at all.

Still, it stands, she seethed, her nails digging crescents into the soft flesh of her palms. I've lost so much and still, it stands!

Tynan had built a magical barrier around the city of Alon, leaving the rest of his kingdom to fend for itself in a foolhardy bid to protect himself and his children. She'd picked off the outlying towns and villages that fell under Tynan's rule one by one, leveling the buildings, killing anyone who dared linger, leaving only the city around the castle overflowing now with refugees from Irsa and Tynan’s war. They had been easy prey for her to test her newfound powers on in the early years of their feud. But how stupid he was to think that Irsa had ever cared about them. All she cared about was the turquoise-headed mer who had stolen her love from her. She'd make him pay.

It is weakening, Mistress, a soft voice slithered across her mind from where the sea dragon bobbed beside her. It was eerie having a mental link to the dark creatures of the depths. Their minds were strange and twisted, full of writhing shadows that, if she looked too closely, would swallow her whole, making their motivations that much harder to parse. It will not be much longer.

There has to be more we can do. Irsa's fingers drummed on her bent tail. All these curses and plagues. They're good. But they're punishing more than Tynan, aren't they? She let out a breath. I've got so much blood on my hands these days.

They would be happy if you were dead, Mistress. Just as the king would.

Yes, well, whose fault is that?! Like the electric strike of an eel, Irsa's rage flashed to life, lighting up the dark outcropping of rocks they'd perched themselves on. Whose fault is it that they hate me?!

The little sea dragon merely looked up at her with its bottomless black eyes. Darker than the pit where they'd buried her love some eighteen years ago. One would think she'd have gotten used to the way these beasts looked at her with their empty eyes, and their spindly limbs, and their pointed teeth, but she hadn't. The creatures of the Deep still frightened her. Even as they helped her to exact her revenge.

Don't give me that look, Irsa snapped, her eyes jerking from its fluttering fins.

We are making the king look incompetent. Very soon his own people will turn against him in a bid to protect themselves.

So you keep saying, but it's been nearly nineteen years, and I'm no closer to seeing this finished. Maybe she never would. Maybe she'd lose her memories before Tynan died. What then? Would what was left of her continue toward her goal even with her mind gone? Or would the creatures of the Deep just give up and go back to terrorizing easier prey?

The king's daughter has been spotted outside of the walls, another voice wriggled into her mind, leaving the oily traces of an angler fish behind. Irsa suppressed a shudder.

Which one? the sea dragon asked, something like interest cutting through the monotone level of its thoughts.

The youngest. Roan, I believe, is her name.

We aren't hurting the children, Irsa said. She'd made up her mind about that long ago. She knew it'd be easier to hurt them. She knew they were Tynan's weak point, at least as far as his reputation was concerned. But they were also hers. Each one of the seven daughters had a piece of her in them, and Irsa couldn't bear to have more of her blood on her hands.

The daughters are his weakness, the angler fish said, as if it had read her mind. It probably had. The communication was not one way between them, and Irsa did her best not to think about what that meant for her privacy. She knew full well that if the creatures of the Deep decided to turn on her, she'd given them enough ammunition long ago. No sense worrying about it now.

We are not hurting the children, Irsa repeated, tone firm.

Yes, Mistress, both creatures replied.

But perhaps there is something that can be done with them that does not entail hurting them, the sea dragon pressed.

Irsa turned to look at it, narrowing her eyes on the smug satisfaction flowing out through its ungodly amount of orange fins. It had caught her interest, and it knew it. She jerked her head away to look back at the walled city.

What did you have in mind? she asked begrudgingly.

If a creature without shoulders could shrug, the sea dragon likely would have, but it couldn’t, so it tilted its head to one side instead. Everyone wants something. We are certain the young princess is no different. Why not meet with her and strike up a deal?

What would a princess want that she'd make a deal with the Witch of the Deep for? Especially when she has her own sea witch in the castle. Irsa's fingers were tapping on her bent tail again, pensive. She couldn't see why the youngest princess would have to want for anything. After all, Tynan no doubt spoiled her rotten.

The same thing her mother wanted, the angler fish said. Freedom.

Irsa laughed, soft and hollow, under her breath. Freedom. Of course, any child of hers would want that when all she had ever known was chains. They'd almost had it once, but it'd been snatched away.

Gavril will not be keen to see to the princess Roan's whims. His master is Tynan, and no one else, the sea dragon added. Only you could provide her with this.

And what would I ask in trade? You know as well as I that a wish as large as that would come with a hefty price tag. What could the princess give me?

The sea dragon just stared at her, unblinking. Irsa was tempted to say it was rolling its eyes at her. The angler fish swam from her side in a wide circle until it was right next to her ear.

She could give you the king's pain. Think of what he would do if he lost his youngest and most precious daughter. The one who looked ever so much like his lost queen. The angler fish's voice was dark and slippery, its tone promising destruction and devastation. Painting a picture in Irsa's mind of a Tynan so ravaged by grief that he took his own life. That he allowed himself to slowly starve, perhaps. That he went mad, mad enough to finally drive his people to storm his castle walls and drag him to the surface for execution. It was a beautiful picture.

All you need do is say the word, Mistress, the sea dragon cooed, and we will find out the princess Roan's deepest wish so that you can grant it.

Something sick twisted in Irsa's belly. Guilt, probably. Trying to remind her that she'd always said she wouldn't touch her children. But it was different if she was granting Roan's wish, wasn't it? It would be different if she was giving the girl what she wanted. Surely she couldn't fault Irsa for that.

You would be helping her, the angler fish insisted.

Irsa sighed and nodded. Very well, gather what information you can, but do not engage. Not yet. Let's see what she wants before we make any promises.

Yes, Mistress, both creatures agreed.

TWO

Roan

The walls of Alon were stifling, suffocating in a way Roan had only ever heard the air above the water could be. No one allowed out or in through the thick dome of magic engineered to keep the witch out, no one that was not escorted by at least half the royal guard. And the walls of the palace were even more heavily protected.

Princess, shouldn't you be in lessons? one of the soldiers posted at every single entrance and corridor asked. Siarl, she thought his name might have been, but there were so many of them these days it was harder and harder to keep track.

Oh, no. I got out early, Roan said. Which wasn't technically a lie, as she had gotten out of lessons early. She just failed to mention that it was due to a minor sleeping spell on her tutor that had allowed her to sneak out. Tomorrow, when Chrysanta asked about it, Roan would say that she'd finished her studies while the older mer had been sleeping and left when she was done. Also not technically a lie; she had finished her studies.

Ah, of course. Siarl smiled at her, offering a low bow. Shall I escort you back to your rooms, Your Highness?

No, thank you. I know the way. Roan pasted on a timid smile and ducked her head, hoping it would be enough to make Siarl feel that his suggestion was improper. Maybe then he'd leave her alone and she could get to that break in the garden wall before anyone noticed she was missing. She still had at least a couple hours of lessons; if she swam fast enough, she could make it to the drift yard and back before supper.

Really, I must insist, Your Highness. Your father would think me remiss if I didn't ensure your safety.

Safety! Roan wanted to laugh. What was there to fear inside the palace walls? What could harm her here with guards posted everywhere she looked, and a dome of magic closing them in? This wasn't safety. It was a cage. It was a prison. She wasn't being protected, she was being shackled, her fins cut so she couldn't swim.

Siarl made a move to offer her his arm, and Roan swam back a little, her long red hair floating into her face.

That won't be necessary, Danil, another voice cut in, stilling the guard's movements. An all too familiar voice. Fars swam forward, placing herself between the guard, apparently named Danil, and Roan. Roan ducked herself behind her eldest sister's long white gown and offered Danil a sheepish smile. My sister and I have a date for tea. I was just looking for her.

Yes, Your Highness. Danil blushed, backing away from the two princesses to his post, which he likely wasn't supposed to be leaving even if it were to escort a princess to her rooms.

Please excuse us. Fars' smile was a mask of diplomacy, kind but carefully calculated to make everyone around her feel as if she were in complete control of the situation. Which she often was. As Father had fallen more and more into his fight with the Witch of the Deep, Fars had been left to tend to the affairs of state, to look after their people.

Danil nodded, his back straightening against the wall.

Fars looped her arm through Roan's and swam past the mer. They were halfway down the hall when she looked back and called, And Danil?

Yes, Your Highness?

Keep up the good work. Fars shot him a wink that left the man blushing even more brightly, the color a strange contrast to his kelp-green hair. The two sisters didn't let their laughter out until they were two corridors down for fear of being overheard.

‘Keep up the good work,’ she says, Roan mocked through her chortles.

What? Fars tilted her head, dark purple hair sweeping into her eyes as she looked down at her youngest sister. Is there a problem with giving someone a compliment?

"Oh no. Not at all. It's just, I never thought I'd see the day that Princess Fars would use blatant misdirection and manipulation and flirting. Roan shook her head, her chuckles slowly dying down. Really, if Father knew . . . "

Do you want me to help you to get out of the city or not? Fars eyed her sister blandly. "Because if that wasn't a cry